Gilraen
by KazraGirl
Summary: Set 150 years after the War of the Ring, Aragorns grand-daughter seeks to follow in his footsteps and travel where he traveled. Chapter 4.
1. Thoughts of the Past

((I don't own any of the characters that are mentioned in Tolkiens work (including the appendices). All other characters are my own invention, although I have tried to keep them true to their parentage. Now that we've finished with the legal stuff, on with the fic!))  
  
Lake Evendim glowed faintly under the cloud filled sky. Dappled with moonlight that intermittently broke through the cloud cover, it appeared to be a haven of peace and tranquillity.  
  
One figure sat alone at the edge of the lake, bare feet trailing in the misty waters, her stormy grey eyes staring out over the calm surface.  
  
Behind her, in a grove of trees could be vaguely seen the figure of a tall man, a dark shadow against the dark green of the trees. His cloak was pulled around him for warmth, his hand rested on his sword hilt, and his eyes were ever watchful.  
  
The figure beside the lake rose, black hair falling forward into her eyes, to be pushed back by a casual hand. She turned, and made her way up the bank, pausing to look over the encampment that had spread out on the shore.  
  
The King had returned to the north, to dispense his justice and solve any disputes, as his father had done before him. And it was in memory of her father's father that the woman stood on the shores of the lake now, thinking about what the future held.  
  
A light misty rain began to fall, and the woman tilted her head up to the sky, feeling the light rain tingle on her cheeks. Cursing, the guard in the trees shivered closer under his cloak, trying to keep warm and dry, wondering why the Princess didn't go back into cover. But it was his duty to watch over the royal family, and so he would, despite the weather.  
  
The rain started to fall heavier now, large droplets splashing into the lake, and sending ripples out in concretic rings.  
  
"And I wonder what ripples will be created from my actions." the woman wondered aloud, before she gathered herself and moved to the largest building, made out of stone and slate, and vanished inside.  
  
Gilraen shook the water from her grey cloak as she stepped inside, slicking the rain from her wet hair in the process. The building was quiet, most having long sought their beds. But the glow of a candle from the room her father had designated his study told her that he was still up. Moving on silent feet, she paced across to the door, and knocked.  
  
A muffled sound bade her enter, and she pushed the door open, smiling as her father turned.  
  
Eldarion Telcontar was a bear of a man, standing six feet tall, with broad shoulders, and a chest like a blacksmiths. His arms were powerfully muscled, but despite his appearance, he was a gentle man and father, considerate of his family, and the people he ruled over.  
  
"What calls you out of your bed so late Gilraen?" he asked, his deep voice rumbling.  
  
"Thoughts father." Gilraen answered frankly. "Thoughts about grandfather, and the past."  
  
Eldarion nodded. "Not a day doesn't go by when I don't think of father," he admitted. "But what brings him to your thoughts?"  
  
"Being here, here in the North. It almost feels like I'm following in his footsteps." "There's something else though." It was a statement, not a question, and Gilraen nodded.  
  
"The War of the Ring." she admitted. "And grandfathers role in it. The places that he travelled to, the people he met. All know of the events that Aragorn played in the War."  
  
Eldarion did not speak, merely nodded his head. Gilraen took a deep breath, composing her thoughts into coherence.  
  
"It is 150 years since the War of the Ring, and 55 years since grandfather died. I would like to.. it might be fitting.. in his memory, and in the memory of the others of the fellowship, to follow the route that they took, even into Mordor." she explained, the words starting to flow more easily. "This I would like to do in their memory. To follow the route of the hobbits through the Shire, to Bree where they met grandfather, to Imladris, and then to Moria. To stand at the entrance to the Mines, and then on to Lothlorien. Down to Anduin to the Argonath, where Isildur and Anarion stand eternal sentinel. And then to the green meadow of Amon Hen." She fell silent now, her face alight with the images that her words had conjured in her mind.  
  
"And would you travel alone?" her father asked. Gilraen tried to read his face to gain some inkling of what he was thinking, but it was impossible.  
  
"No, I would not travel alone. Though these are peaceful times, dangers still lurk along the route I would take, and while I have been taught to use the sword and bow, it would be foolish." "And after you reach Amon Hen? Where then will you go? The path of the fellowship sundered there. The Ringbearer and his companion Samwise Gamgee crossed the Emyn Muil, and Elessar entered Rohan."  
  
"I.. we would follow the route of Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli into Rohan, to Fangorn, to Edoras. Then to Helms Deep to see the glittering caves beneath, and then to the Treegarth of Orthanc. To Erech, and then to Pelargir and the sight of the sea. Then to Minas Tirith, and beyond, to Osgiliath and the Crossroads. And finally to Cirith Gorgor and the Black Gate, within sight of the Mountain of Doom."  
  
Eldarion nodded slowly, his eyes unfocused as he considered.  
  
Gilraen waited, her mind afire with thoughts and plans for the things that must be done before she could leave. She had entered with only vague ideas, shadow thoughts, but now they had ignited into a bonfire.  
  
"Let me think about this Gilraen." Eldarion said eventually, slowly.  
  
"As you wish father," she said, before moving to the door. As it closed behind her, she let her happiness briefly show as she danced across the floor to the room that was hers.  
  
Hidden in the shadows, the guard smiled and shook his head. 


	2. Thoughts of the future

((I don't own any of the characters that are mentioned in Tolkiens work (including the appendices). All other characters are my own invention, although I have tried to keep them true to their parentage. Now that we've finished with the legal stuff, on with the fic!))  
  
Gilraen awoke, mind fuzzy from sleep. Sunlight streamed in through the window, giving the stones of her bedroom an amber glow. Movement could be heard from outside her door, and outside the window. The world was waking and another day was begun.  
  
She rose and stretched, feeling muscles slide over bone before she dressed. Stepping outside her room, she was greeted with affection by one of the hounds that her father kept. Trying not to trip over the affectionate animal, and avoid the repeated lickings, Gilraen headed for the kitchen for something to eat.  
  
The kitchen was fairly quiet, since there was only the Kings family to cater for as all the others had cooks of their own. Amidst the bustle, Gilraen spotted a familiar figure.  
  
"Good day Araval." she greeted her brother.  
  
"Good day to you Gilraen." he replied absently, and Gilraen chuckled.  
  
"Your mind wanders brother, and dare I ask where?"  
  
Araval started, and flushed almost guiltily. Gilraen burst out laughing, which drew the gazes of many of the people in the kitchen.  
  
"Who is she this time?"  
  
" I.. I don't know what you mean." Araval stammered, which just increased Gilraens laughter.  
  
"Its not that funny." Araval said peevishly. Gilraen nodded, and tried to compose herself, partially succeeding, although by the look on her face, she could start laughing again at any moment.  
  
"Shall we change the subject." her brother asked, and Gilraen nodded, not quite trusting her voice just at the moment.  
  
Araval was just about to speak, when one of the guards approached them. "Princess Gilraen, King Telcontar asks you to attend him immediately."  
  
Gilraen nodded, receiving a funny look from her brother, before she headed off. Once more she entered her fathers study. It seemed as though he had not moved since she left him, he was still sitting in the same position. But his face showed no signs of sleeplessness and his eyes were focused.  
  
"You wished to see me father?" she asked, taking a seat at his gesture to sit. "I did." and he left it at that.  
  
'Not much room for conversation left there father', Gilraen thought silently to herself, before adding aloud. "About the matter that we discussed last night?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
Gilraen sat in silence for a moment, pondering what to say to break the silence. Her problem was solved when her father spoke again.  
  
"Your idea is a good one, and you seem to have planned it well. Have you thought about who you would like to accompany you?"  
  
Gilraen considered. "Myself to represent the Dunedan, a warrior of Gondor, a dwarf, and elf, and four hobbits."  
  
"The races that made up the fellowship." Eldarion nodded, a smile playing about his lips. "Fitting. But what about one to take the place of the Istari, Gandalf?"  
  
"That I leave to you father." Gilraen replied, and Eldarion nodded.  
  
*************  
  
The main hall was filled with bodies. Courtiers, a few elves and dwarfs, hobbits all mingled together. King Eldarion held court at one end of the hall with his wife, while his five children mingled with the others, laughing and smiling.  
  
The day's discussion had gone well, and the gathering was a reflection of this. Only Gilraen and her father knew that there was something different about this, for it was here that the spark of the idea would be implemented.  
  
Eldarion rose to his feet, eyes surveying the gathering, before his hand raised for silence.  
  
"This year sees the 150th year since the War of the Ring was won, and the Enemy was defeated. It is also 55 years since my father, King Elessar died, and the last of the fellowship departed these shores. In memory of these events, my daughter, Princess Gilraen has suggested a retracing of the route. Beginning from the Shire," and he offered a nod in the direction of the hobbits, " Continuing to Bree, and then Imladris. To Caradhras, Moria and Lothlorien. All the places that were visited by Frodo of the Nine Fingers, and the Fellowship of the Ring." Murmurs cut through the quiet of the hall, with all the guests looking curiously at each other.  
  
"My daughter will take the place of one of the Dunedan, and Lord Beren of Ithilien will travel for Gondor. The intention is to form a complement as that of the Fellowship." He fell silent, letting the hall come to the obvious conclusion that those in the hall could volunteer to take the places.  
  
Gilraen slipped quietly away from the gathering as the whispers grew. She had permission from her father to travel with the group. She stepped outside, a spring in her step as she made her way down to the lakeside once more. Behind her, another figure slipped out, and followed her, but keeping a careful distance.  
  
Gilraen looked out over the wind ruffled surface of the water, her mind filled with images, and the planning that needed to be done before they could leave. "Lost in thought sister?" came the voice before behind her.  
  
Gilraen turned slowly, and stared for a long moment at Araval, who grinned back.  
  
"And it should be such an interesting trip for you as well." He said.  
  
Gilraen raised one eyebrow quizzically. "What do you mean by that?" "Lord Beren."  
  
"And?" Gilraen asked, started to feel slightly peevish with her brother.  
  
"You mean you don't /know/?! What an amazing thing." Araval replied with mock astonishment.  
  
Gilraen decided not to fence with her brother any longer in this war of words. She twisted on her heel, and once more returned to staring out at the lake.  
  
If there was one thing that Araval couldn't stand, it was being ignored, and he was at that tender age, when girls were important to him, and to have one ignore him, even his own sister, was more than his ego could take.  
  
"Father has already decided who you are to wed. Its Lord Beren, to cement closer ties between our two families." And Araval's held a suppressed note of laughter. "I suppose the only reason he's coming on this trip is to see if you like him enough not to throw him off Caradhras."  
  
Gilraen spun. "Beren is descended from Faramir, brother to Boromir who was a member of the fellowship. His right to be there is clear!"  
  
"That may as be sister." And Araval's sentence trailed off suggestively, before he turned and made his way back into the night.  
  
Gilraen sat, unmindful of the mud that soaked the dress, and the cold ground beneath her. She had known from the moment that she mind had begun to awaken that she would wed as her father decreed. She knew that it was likely that she would not love her husband initially, but might grow to love him as time went by. Perhaps that was another reason in her fathers mind, that this trip would bring the pair closer together.  
  
She shrugged, and pushed these thoughts from her mind. Time enough to think about that on the Road. 


	3. The Fellowship of Nine

Gilraen paced the floor in her room, grey eyes worried. There was so much to organise and arrange! The route was obvious but messengers had to be sent to alert the races at the key points, the elves of Rivendell, the dwarves of Moria, the Rohirrim.  
  
A knock on the door made her turn from her blank eyed contemplation of the view. "Come in." She called softly and the door opened.  
  
A tall man entered the room, a smile creasing his sun lined face.  
  
"Good day to you Princess." He greeted, humour dancing in his dark blue eyes.  
  
"Lord Beren." Gilraen curtsied. "But since we are going to travel together, please just call me Gilraen."  
  
"Beren then please Pri...Gilraen." he responded.  
  
Gilraen studied the man that would, if Aravals's story was true, become her husband. She could see his ancestry clearly in the planes of his face, chiselled deep. She had seen him at court, and knew that her father used his advice fairly often seemed unaware of her scrutiny, and continued to speak.  
  
"Our fellowship is coming together. Four hobbits have asked if they could accompany us as we travel. One of them wishes to follow in the footsteps of his relatives. He's a Gardener."  
  
"Descended from Frodo Gardener, son of Samwise?" Gilraens attention was caught. Beren nodded. "Indeed. Merimac Gardener. The adventurous blood seems to run in his veins from what his friends were telling me. They also want to accompany him. Their names are Robin Bolger, Olo Heathertoes and Morro Hardbottle."  
  
Gilraen smiled. "They would be more than welcome to travel with us."  
  
"Exactly what I thought." Beren said, before he bowed again and withdrew. Gilraen turned back to staring out of the window.  
  
"Soon our feet will be upon the road, treading where our forefathers before us trod as they sought to achieve their quest. Will we face the same dangers as them, or will new perils await us?" she murmured softly to herself.  
  
------------  
  
Gilraen strode through the passages of the kings home, heading for the rooms where the weavers worked and kept their cloth, to discuss with them travelling outfits.  
  
She stepped past an intersection which loomed dark on her right. She was about to carry on her way when an unfamiliar male voice speaking her name drew her attention. "Sir?" she queried.  
  
From out of the shadows stepped a tall elf, grey hair braided back behind pointed ears. Dark brown eyes were deep, the mind behind them steeped in the wisdom of all the ages that he had seen.  
  
"My Lord Cirdan." Gilraen curtsied. She had met the lord of the Grey Havens once before, and had been left in awe.  
  
"I would like to make a request of you Lady." He spoke.  
  
"Of course my Lord. How may I aid you?" was her reply.  
  
"I would like to accompnay you and your fellowship as you travel."  
  
"Why?" the question was blurted before she could consider how appropriate it was or censor it.  
  
A soft smile touched the stern face of the elf Lord. "I find myself growing weary of the world. One last ship still waits, and when it departs, the last of the Eldar will be gone from this world. But I would see Arda once more before I go."  
  
Moved, Gilraen curtsied, words failing her for a moment till she gathered herself again. "You would be welcome my lord and we would be honoured to have you with us." "My friend would also travel with us, as he departs for Valinor presently and would see the world at peace before he leaves."  
  
To have another elf in the group would spoil the symmetry that they were trying too create, but Gilraen did not want to offend.  
  
"And his name would be?" she asked.  
  
"Radagast the Brown." And Cirdans eyes sparkled with his pleasure at his surprise. "Thus the symmetry remains."  
  
Gilraen looked rueful. "I should have remembered that nothing escapes your notice my Lord."  
  
Cirdan chuckled. "Indeed. I remember an incident with your brother and yourself, when you were practising your hunting skills by stalking people."  
  
"You succeeded in stalking us." Gilraen remembered the incident well, having received a rather strong scolding for that. "Radagast would be as welcome as yourself. Tonight, there is to be a meeting held for all of us travellers, the second hour after sunset. Is that convenient?"  
  
"Myself and Radagast will be there." Cirdan said, before disappeared into the shadow of the passage again. Gilraen continued on her way, her exultation in this coming together briefly showing itself in a peal of laughter.  
  
----------  
  
The small reception room had been set aside for the meeting, and set out with nine chairs. Beren was already there, and rose as Gilraen entered.  
  
"Are the rumours that are crackling around true? Lord Cirdan and Radagast the Brown are accompanying us?" he asked.  
  
Gilraen nodded. "They are indeed," and her smile escaped her control. Beren returned it, before some emotion flickered in his eyes and he turned his head away. Gilraen frowned but was saved from having to question him by the entrance of four hobbits, all looking fairly nervous.  
  
"Welcome!" Gilraen called in greeting, and saw from the corner of her eye Beren turn with a friendly smile. Perhaps he too welcomed the interruption. "Merimac, Olo, Robin and Morro I believe?"  
  
Each hobbit nodded as she said their names, and Gilraen blessed her memory that allowed her to match faces to names and nearly always remember them.  
  
"Lady Gilraen." Merimac spoke up.  
  
"Please, just Gilraen, since we're all travelling together." Gilraen quickly interrupted them, before blushing apologetically and gesturing for Merimac to continue.  
  
"Thank you for letting us accompany us. Its amazing to think that we are actually going to be travelling in the footsteps of our grandparents."  
  
The hobbits settled themselves in four of the chairs, and Gilraen and Beren joined them. They were deep in conversation about family trees when the door opened again.  
  
Expecting Cirdan or Radagast to be arriving, Gilraen was surprised to see a familiar Dwarven figure enter.  
  
"Ambassador Fundin!" she declared as the ambassador from the Morian Dwarves to the court of the King entered.  
  
"Gilraen." Fundin said with a bow, having knowing Gilraen since she was a child, formality had been dispensed with between the two. "For the honour of the dwarves, and in memory of Gimli son of Gloin, I have come to ask if I may join with you."  
  
"Welcome." Beren said simply, rising to shake Fundins hand.  
  
"And now our fellowship is complete." Gilraen laughed as Cirdan and Radagast entered. Gilraen for the Dunedain. Beren for Gondor. Merimac, Olo, Robin and Morro for the Shire. Fundin for the Dwarves. Cirdan for the Elves. Radagast for the Istari.  
  
A dream conceived in the dark of night had borne fruit, and was about to flower. 


	4. The Journey Begins

Gilraen tossed in her bed, restless mind running over all the things that had been done to prepare for the journey. Then her focus shifted to the morning, when the new Fellowship would depart. They had discussed the journey in detail, planning the route over maps, packed and prepared. And now, the time was near.  
  
Giving up on the idea of sleep, Gilraen rose and drew a cloak over her nightgown, before padding out into the hallway where all was quiet. The house slumbered, and even the figures of the guards at the doors were stood as still as statues.  
  
As Gilraen passed the guard at the door, one hand was brought to his brow in salute, breaking the tableau. Once she was past though, the guard motioned for another to follow her, to make sure that she would be safe.  
  
The moon was shrouded by clouds but Gilraen's feet easily found the familiar path down to the lake. Behind her moved the guard, keeping his distance, but ready for any trouble that might show itself.  
  
Ignoring the cool ground beneath her, Gilraen sank to her knees and stared out across the lake.  
  
"Would you approve grandfather?" she whispered softly. "A group of us, paying tribute to you in this way? But we won't have the same fears, the same worries that you did."  
  
She leant forward and dabbled her fingers in the water, sending ripples out into the centre of the lake.  
  
"Watch over us grandfather. Let your spirit, and the spirits of the other members of the fellowship guide us."  
  
She bent her head forward as she spoke these last words, and then, weariness overtaking her despite the excitement of the morning, she headed back to her room and sleep.  
  
--------------------  
  
The morning dawned sunny and clear. Despite her restless night, Gilraen was the first to rise and beginning to prepare.  
  
Eldarion had decided on a good send off for his daughter, and the fellowship raised from her dreams and hopes. So as the time for their departure grew nigh, a crowd began to gather outside the King's home.  
  
Gilraen hefted the pack to her back, adjusting her cloak under it so that it fell easily. She regarded herself in the mirror and smiled at the culmination of her dreams.  
  
A knock came on the door, and without waiting for an answer, Araval walked in, practically dancing with anticipation.  
  
"The time grows near." He said as he moved to stand beside her.  
  
"Indeed it does,"Gilraen replied as she turned to face him, unable to keep the quaver of excitement from her voice.  
  
"Be careful, won't you?" he abruptly engulfed her in a hug, arms squeezing her tight, emotion choking his voice.  
  
"I will brother." She said, slightly startled by this sudden outpouring of emotion from her usually more restrained brother. She brushed a lock of hair back from his cheek and tucked it behind his ear. "I promise."  
  
Araval gained control of himself once more, and with a parting squeeze disentangled himself.  
  
"We'd better head outside. Father would not want us to be late."  
  
-------------------  
  
Gilraen was astonished by the amount of people that had turned out to see the new fellowship depart.  
  
She stood beside the others, shifting nervously. Cirdan rested one hand on her arm, and she jumped slightly.  
  
"Nerves are only to be expected young Gilraen but don't let them get the better of you." He said with a slight wink.  
  
Gilraen nodded and smiled in gratitude, before steadying herself and composing her features. She would not disgrace her lineage.  
  
Her father was beginning his speech, and as was generally her custom, Gilraen paid little or no attention to what he was saying, until her own name was mentioned.  
  
"My daughter Gilraen travels for Aragorn. Beren travels for Boromir. Fundin travels for Gimli. Cirdan travels for Legolas. Radagast travels for Gandalf. Merimac, Olo, Morro and Robin travel for Frodo, Sam, Merry and Pippin. Their fellowship is complete."  
  
The crowd applauded, and the fellowship bowed (and curtsied) in response. And then they began, with Cirdan motioning to Gilraen to take the lead. With a respectful curtsy to her father in farewell, and a wave to her brother, Gilraen stepped out.  
  
Eldarion watched as his daughter led out the fellowship, and felt pride swell his heart.  
  
"Watch over her father." He whispered.  
  
-----------------  
  
They set an easy pace the first day, to get every one used to traveling by foot. Gilraen spent most of the trip giggling at Radagast, who was chatting with the animals and birds that they met on their way. The hobbits were regaling Beren with stories, and Fundin and Cirdan were putting the legendary feud of the elves and dwarves behind them and talking about the past.  
  
The next day, the pace picked up slightly as they continued to make their way towards Hobbiton. It was Radagast that managed to persuade the insects that they wanted to go elsewhere and not bother the travelers that were passing through.  
  
It took six days before they entered terrain that Morro recognized as being in the Northfarthing, where he immediately took the role of their guide, pointing out areas of interest, and recounting stories of his growing up. These were quite often contradicted by the other hobbits who added their own versions of events, but this was taken humorously by all. Laughter was the best bonds for all.  
  
-------------  
  
They reached Hobbiton as night fell on the eighth day, pleasure rising in their hearts as they saw the glowing lamps that marked the smials. Gilraen was almost bouncing with nerves, but she tried to maintain her composure. It would not do for a daughter of the house of Telcontar to be too enthusiastic about this, no matter how enjoyable or different it may have been to her.  
  
A middle aged hobbit met then as they made their way down the East Road (having moved slightly off course as they traveled south). He introduced himself as Halfred Gamgee, the mayor of Hobbiton. Grandly, he gave them permission to enter the town, and to stay as long as they liked in the Shire.  
  
"Remember, it was your grandfather who granted the Shire to the Halflings" Radagast whispered to Gilraen, who nodded.  
  
Halfred acted much like a guide as he escorted them through the town. "Unfortunately, none of our rooms are built to accommodate people of your, stature shall we say." He explained. "So, if it is convenient for you, we have had tents set up in the Party Field."  
  
"That is most generous of you Mayor Gamgee." Fundin declared.  
  
"Indeed." Cirdan added. "And to see the only mallorn tree West of the mountains!"  
  
"You'll have to excuse young Halfred." Merimac whispered to Gilraen as they walked. "He isn't usually this formal. It's only because he's never seen Big People before, and of course, who your ancestors are."  
  
"A relation of yours Merimac?" Gilraen whispered back.  
  
Merimac grinned. "Distantly. I would tell you exactly, but I know that Men don't find such things as interesting as Hobbits do."  
  
Gilraen laughed, before her voice trailed off in an astonished gasp as they crested a hill and the Party Field lay before them.  
  
It glittered with lanterns, hung from the branches of the Mallorn tree and from the other trees that lined the field. A large yellow canvas was hung on poles to create a large open air tent.  
  
"The Long Expected Party." Gilraen whispered to herself, remembering the passages from the Red Book that she had studied. "Where everything began." Almost, she could see the events of the past, Bilbo Baggins, who had now long sought his rest, greeting his guests and avoiding the Sackville Bagginses, Frodo dancing with the other young hobbits, and a host of feasting and merry-making. Halfred murmured his excuses and left them there, scuttling away with ill- concealed stealth. Merimac laughed.  
  
"If I know Halfred, he's got something up his sleeve planned for such a great event as this."  
  
Beren nodded, a smile flickering across his face as he deposited his pack on the ground underneath the canvas ceiling. "Let us hope that we do not disgrace ourselves, or start dancing on tables."  
  
Gilraen and Merimac were the only ones who got the joke there, and laughed, before the three of them had to explain to the rest of the bemused Fellowship what was so funny.  
  
--------------------  
  
The night was continuing onwards, and the Fellowship were taking their ease under the canvas. Gilraen was flicking through a small, plain bound book that she had brought with her, to document what occurred on the journey, and to note down her thoughts and feelings. Radagast was talking with Merimac, Beren and Olo, with Fundin in a group with Morro and Robin. Cirdan was lying still, eyes open. Gilraen suspected that he could be resting, but from all the lore that she had heard about elves, it was difficult to tell.  
  
They had been told that the 'something special' that Merimac thought would be planned for them, had been planned, but would not take place till the following night, to give their honored guests a nights sleep to recover and refresh themselves. So their time was their own.  
  
Morning and the sunlight would be time enough for exploring, to see all the places, the Bywater Pool, Bag End, Bagshot Row, The Green Dragon, the Ivy Bush, and all the places that, to Gilraen, were simply places named on paper. To be able to put an image to these words was a honour.  
  
And it was with these thoughts in mind, that Gilraen drifted off into a quiet sleep. 


End file.
